Beautiful Lover
by TaleBearer
Summary: Sequel to Beautiful Ally. Ardeth Bey's enemies kidnap Ardeth and Julia, intent on using them as sacrifices in a bizarre ritual. A strange twist of fate gives Julia the advantage that could make all the difference between life and the horror that awaits.


**BEAUTIFUL LOVER**

**By**

**TaleBearer**

_"Dear Daddy,_

_ I do apologize for missing last week's letter. I've been having a bit of trouble with my right arm. Nothing to worry about. It's probably just "librarian's elbow" or "bluestocking's bones" or some silly scholar's ailment like that. I fear you will think me quite the sluggard, but I've done little other than stay at home and catch up on my reading. Mr. Kufti has even been kind enough to give me a few days off. _

_I believe I've come to some kind of agreement, or at least a temporary cease-fire, with Mr. Kufti. A mutual friend helped clear up a few misunderstandings between us, and now all is well. It would be lovely to have the two of you meet someday. Mr. Kufti is a man of great subtlety and he seems to know everyone who is anyone here in Cairo. I'm sure you'd find much to talk about._

_Aside from this little difficulty with my arm, things are going quite well. I'm adjusting to the climate, taking advantage of the temperate periods just after dawn and sunset. All of Cairo rises early, if only to heed the muezzins in the mosques calling the faithful to prayer. Such pious people, the Muslims. They pray five times a day. Of course, as one would expect, the students at the University tend to keep all hours. I have my little carrel in the library, and of course a desk in the Anthropology department's office. It's really more a harim for the secretarial workers, but I don't mind._

_I had a most enlightening moment the other day. One of the Muslim ladies who wears the purdah admired my dress, saying how nice it was to see an English girl observe the proper modesty in her clothing. I was wearing the charcoal gray affair you habitually refer to as "that sack with buttons on." If that meets the standards for female modesty here in the Muslim world, small wonder I find myself without male companionship of any sort. It may be that I look too nunnish to be approached._

_ I do wish Mother would stop pestering me to tell her about all the men here in Cairo. They're the same stuffy lot who occupy the polo fields and club rooms at home. I keep telling Mother a proper British woman does not go to Cairo to land a husband. Mother tells me a proper British woman doesn't go to Cairo at all. Mother simply will not rest until she sends me marching down the aisle awash in lace and net and pearls, burdened with a bouquet of roses more funerary than bridal. I know Mother means well, but she can't expect an anthropologist to go all moony-eyed over tribal nonsense like "sixpence in my shoe." Really, Daddy. This is the 20th Century."_

There came a knock on Julia's bedroom door. She was sitting on her bed, legs stretched out and her mahogany lapdesk in front of her. She put her pen and paper inside the lapdesk and closed its lid, then set it aside using her left hand. The lapdesk was no great weight, but it was heavy enough to make her sore right shoulder ache. She swung her legs off the bed and stood up slowly, mindful of the doctor's warning about vertigo. Her right shoulder twinged a bit, but otherwise she felt fine. She straightened her white cotton shirtwaist and smoothed the folds of her khaki skirt, then opened the door to see Mohammed, her personal Med-Jai bodyguard.

"Yes?" she asked. "What is it?"

In the two weeks since the raid on the antiquities dealer, Julia had learned to note the slightest change of Mohammed's expression. He did not speak in front of her, and had not, at any time. As far as she knew he was mute. Now he bowed and held out one hand toward the hallway door.

"Good afternoon, Miss Lawrence," said a familiar voice from out in the hallway. "I hoped to find you at home to visitors."

Julia dashed past the stoic face of Mohammed. There, just closing the door, stood Ardeth Bey. Julia hesitated, aching to embrace him but uncertain about such a display in front of Mohammed. Ardeth Bey smiled, then said something to Mohammed in Arabic. With another bow, Mohammed stepped out through the door and shut it behind him.

Ardeth Bey's smile grew into a grin. He held out his arms to Julia. She ran to him and threw her arms around his waist, no easy feat with the hilts of two scimitars and a dagger in her way. Ardeth Bey held her close, burying his face in her hair. Julia held onto him just as tightly, listening to the rhythm of his heart. He kissed her forehead, then held her out at arm's length.

"Are you well?"

Julia nodded. "Well enough. A trifle bored, but I can't really complain."

Ardeth Bey ran his thumb over the white cotton of Julia's blouse where it covered the scar on her shoulder. "Does it give you much pain?"

"Only now and then."

Julia forced a lighthearted smile. Ardeth Bey would blame himself forever for allowing Jameson time enough to shoot her. That he had promptly killed Jameson did not take away his remorse at Julia nearly dying in her effort to save his life.

"I dread returning to England's damper climate. At least I'll be able to sit around the fire with my father's military friends, joking about how my war wound aches when it rains!"

"Tell me truly," he said. "How much does it hurt?"

Julia looked away. As always, Ardeth Bey saw through her efforts to joke about whatever bothered her.

"If I do too much with this arm, carry too much weight, it grows rather stiff and aches quite a bit."

"And the mark? Does it fade?"

Julia shook her head. The scar was worst on the back of her shoulder, where the bullet had made rather a mess on its way out. The stitching had been done by the best surgeon on the hospital's impressive staff, but even he could do only so much to minimize the scarring. At the moment she had what looked like a thin, flat tarantula climbing up the back of her arm and shoulder.

"I might have to get that tattoo after all. Turn the nasty thing into a pansy or a lotus blossom or. . . . Well. Something appropriately feminine."

Ardeth Bey drew her back into his embrace, settling her head under his chin. "And the pain in your heart? Do you sleep better these days?"

Julia nodded against his chest, huddling closer. He knew she still had nightmares about that day. No matter how they varied, the nightmares always ended in Julia failing to save him and Ardeth Bey's bloody death. The scar on her shoulder was nothing. No surgeon could mend the jagged tear in her peace of mind. There were people in Cairo who wanted Ardeth Bey dead. Now that she had been linked to him in so public a way, those enemies had her in their sights as well. The scar was a constant reminder of all that.

"How are things at the museum?" She stepped back and took his hand, leading him to her couch. "Has Mr. Kufti managed to lose every scrap of paper on his desk?"

"At least twice." Ardeth Bey shrugged out of first one sword belt, then the other, propping them in the corner beside the couch. He threw his hat aside, then freed his veil and dropped it into his hat. He sat down and leaned back, closing his eyes in momentary relaxation. "The woman acting as his secretary insists she can make nothing of your system of filing."

"Just because I file 'hieroglyphics' according to type? 'Demotic' goes under D, 'hieratic' under H, and so on. It makes perfect sense to me."

"He misses you," Ardeth Bey said. "He asks after you every day."

"Does he really?"

Ardeth Bey nodded. "I think he misses the challenge of presenting you with an impossible task. He likes to watch you accomplish it just to spite him."

Julia gaped at him. "Did he say that?" Her laughter overcame her indignation.

Ardeth Bey shrugged. "A man of Mr. Kufti's intelligence requires a proper adversary. Not one of the women who attend him is worthy of the title 'Sheytana.'"

"Not one? Really? I'd have thought Miss Abercrombie in Administration qualified. She's quite the dragon over every form being filled out properly."

Ardeth Bey sat quite still, looking her over with an expression she couldn't quite read. "Mr. Kufti has asked me to decide when you will be able to return to the museum."

"Ah." Now Julia understood. Ardeth Bey had come to her not as a lover visiting his sweetheart but as a general reviewing his troops. "Isn't that up to me more so than you?"

"Not as long as I believe you are in danger. We still have no idea who sent Jameson to steal the false artifacts."

"Still? Didn't any of Jameson's men talk?"

"No." Ardeth Bey's expression turned cold. "They either knew nothing, or they died to conceal what they knew."

Julia suppressed a shudder. She knew how the Med-Jai dealt with their enemies, both real and potential. There were two options: you simply didn't do what they told you not to do, or you died. Once again it occurred to Julia that she still didn't know why Ardeth Bey's mission was so important any interference brought down the Med-Jais' swift and brutal wrath.

"That reminds me," she began. "You never have told me what the Brotherhood of the Med-Jai is, or does."

Ardeth Bey pressed two long fingers to her lips. He laid his arm around Julia's shoulders and pulled her across his lap, settling her head in the crook of his arm. Julia leaned back, eyes closed, content to let him arrange her as he liked. He stroked the fine hair at her temples, then toyed with her braid. His long, elegant fingers followed the thick chestnut plaits down over her shoulder, along her forearm. As always, his touch soothed her, making her anxiety melt away. Julia let out a long sigh of contentment.

"What am I to do with you?" Ardeth Bey murmured. He twined her fingers with his and lifted her hand to his lips, grazing her knuckles with a kiss. "You ride and shoot and think like a man, yet you have this long, silken hair, this soft, lovely body, these sweet lips that leave my mind clouded to anything but how much I want to kiss you. . . ."

She opened her eyes to see him shake his head, making the wealth of his long black curls sweep across his shoulders. The afternoon sunlight lent his olive skin a burnished quality, making the Med-Jai tattoos on his cheeks and forehead stand out like blue enamel on gold.

"Your eyes," he whispered. "Lighter than the noontime skies, darker than the smoke of the campfire, more lovely than the first blush of dawn." He bent to rub his cheek along hers. "What am I to do with you, my sheytana?"

Julia turned toward him, longing for the heat of his kiss. In the instant before their lips touched, glass shattered. Julia's head jerked toward her one window. Ardeth Bey snatched up his veil and threw it across her face to shield her from the jagged splinters. He slid down off the couch, holding her tight against him and turning so Julia landed beneath him, covered by his body. Julia stayed perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe.

Ardeth Bey called out in Arabic. Mohammed answered him. The harsh rattle of automatic gunfire out in the street made Julia flinch. Ardeth Bey slid off to one side, pushing her toward her bedroom.

"In there. Now! Stay down!"

Julia half-crawled, half-dragged herself across the floor to her bedroom. Her shoulder protested, punishing her for the exertion with a sudden flash of deeper pain. Ardeth Bey called to Mohammed again. This time he got no answer. More gunfire erupted, louder, closer. Screams and the thunder of many running feet filled the hallway outside Julia's front door. Julia scurried around the bed and into the closet. Through the open bedroom door Julia watched Ardeth Bey make his way across the floor to the window, his body moving in a glide sinuous enough to rival any viper of the desert. He sat up and pressed his back against the wall just beside the window.

"Daoud!" he shouted. "Yussuf!"

No answer. A horrible sickening certainty crept over Julia. There could be only one reason why the Med-Jai did not answer their leader.

Ardeth Bey risked a quick look down into the street, then ducked back into his hiding place. When Julia caught his eye, he shook his head and motioned for her to stay down. Julia popped up just long enough to grab the box that held her revolver. Her daily ceremony of unloading, cleaning, and loading the gun had left it in excellent working order. She checked the chambers. All six fully loaded. She stretched out flat on the floor and set the revolver down just outside the bedroom doorway.

"Ardeth! Here!"

Julia shoved the revolver toward him across the floorboards. Ardeth Bey reached out one long arm to snatch it up. He rose into a crouch, listening at the window. The clamor in the street outside had faded into the usual afternoon noise. Ardeth Bey peered around the edge of the windowsill. What he saw there made him scowl. He brought the revolver up thrust it out the window, sighting down the barrel. Just as he fired, another gunshot echoed his. Ardeth Bey cried out in surprise and pain. He jerked back from the window and dropped the revolver to claw at his left shoulder. Something silvery glittered there.

"Julia! Run!" He swayed, then fell over backward. "Get out! Get-- "

Ardeth Bey's eyes rolled up. His body went limp, his hands falling away to lay loose at his sides. Cold terror froze Julia. No. Not like this. Not after all they'd been through together. He couldn't die like this. She knelt beside him. The silvery thing was a dart of some sort, fired from a gun with enough strength to sink the wicked-looking needle more than half its length into Ardeth Bey's shoulder. With shaking fingers she touched his neck. She found a pulse, watched the regular rise and fall of his chest. Not dead but drugged. Julia almost collapsed from relief.

New voices shouted in the hallway. They sounded like military. So did the heavy tread of boots jogging up and down the hallway outside her door. Julia tucked the revolver into the waistband of her skirt, then took Ardeth Bey by the wrists and dragged him all the way into the bedroom. Her right shoulder protested again. She ignored it and closed the bedroom door, leaving it open just the slightest crack. Julia watched the front door, the revolver ready in her right hand. She didn't even want to think about how much the revolver's recoil would hurt.

A sudden burst of gunfire in the hallway made Julia cringe back against Ardeth Bey's body. Bullets tore chunks out of her front door and shattered what was left of her window. The splintered door creaked inward. Mohammed fell across the doorstep, his empty eyes staring upward at nothing. Julia clapped one hand over her mouth, forcing back the tears that choked her. Any sound at all could mean both her life and Ardeth Bey's.

A man wearing the desert fatigues of a soldier stepped over Mohammed's body. Under one arm he carried a machine gun. By his close-cropped gray hair and rawboned, sunburned look, Julia guessed him to be a mercenary.

"Miss Lawrence?" His accent was American. "Miss Lawrence, please show yourself."

Julia wished she'd had the sense to hide Ardeth Bey in the closet. The mercenary had others with him, of that she was sure. Where were they? No matter. More Med-Jai would be swooping down any time now. She had six bullets in the revolver and plenty of spare ammunition in the closet. If she had to, she'd just pick off each mercenary as he came through the door. Starting with this American. As she inched the barrel of the revolver out through the gap between the door and the jamb, two more men stepped through the ruin of her front door.

"Got those two out front, Cap'n." The skinny, blond member of the pair spoke, revealing some twangy regional accent. "There's one more on the roof, howlin' like a lonely coyote. You want me to shut him up?"

The "Captain" shook his head. "No, Thomas. That won't be necessary. We'll be long gone before his help arrives."

The third man, short and squat with a yellowish tinge to his swarthy looks, dumped a roll of carpet on the floor. "Hey, Capitano, where the man at? You see him hit, no? Should be right here."

"He won't be hard to find. Look."

The Captain pointed to the fragments of broken glass scattered all over the living room floor. To her horror, Julia realized Ardeth Bey's robes had dragged a path through the debris right to her bedroom door. Praying for some degree of surprise, Julia sprang up and jerked open her door. She stood with legs braced apart, the revolver gripped in her right hand and cradled in her left. Mr. Collins had insisted this was the steadiest way.

"I don't know who you are," she said, "But I do know who you're going to be. You'll be the corpses the Cairo police drag out of here. Now get out while you can still walk!"

The Captain smiled. "Ah, Miss Lawrence. Would you be kind enough to drop your gun? There are three of us, and even if you did get away, you'd be leaving your Med-Jai friend there behind. I don't think you'd want to do that, now would you?"

Julia wanted to shoot him just for that patronizing tone of voice. She hesitated, stalling for time, trying to think of some way out. The Captain's gray eyes stood out pale, almost colorless, against his tanned face. On anyone else those eyes might have been termed icy, with displeasure, hauteur, or contempt. His were as cold and dead as hoarfrost. Nothing human lived behind them.

"Now, Miss Lawrence." The Captain brought his machine gun up, its muzzle pointed directly at her legs. "I would prefer to do this in a tidy manner, but I can and will shoot you, as many times as necessary." He nodded toward her right shoulder. "I understand you're already recovering from a bullet wound. Believe me when I tell you this will be much worse."

"Who are you?"

"The gun, Miss Lawrence. Drop it. Now."

"Who do you want? Me or him?"

"Why, both of you, of course." The Captain motioned Thomas forward. "Now hand over the gun, or I may be forced to exercise my impatience on Mr. Bey. Where he's going, a few broken bones aren't going to make much difference."

With a miserable sense of defeat, Julia let Thomas take her revolver. He and his partner unrolled the carpet, a cheap imitation Persian. The Captain bent to jerk the dart out of Ardeth Bey's shoulder. The two underlings took Ardeth Bey by the wrists and ankles and heaved him none to gently across one end of the carpet, then proceeded to roll him up in it. No one would ever suspect the leader of the Brotherhood of the Med-Jai, descendants of Pharoah's Royal Bodyguard, lay drugged and helpless inside its dusty folds.

"Excellent." The Captain handed his machine gun to Thomas, who slung it on his own shoulder. "I would offer you the option of coming along quietly, Miss Lawrence, but your reputation for resourcefulness has preceded you. I've been advised to allow you absolutely no chance of escape."

He took a small glass vial and a handkerchief out of his breast pocket, then sprinkled the contents of the one over the other. Even from several feet away, the fumes were strong enough to make Julia gag. Chloroform. Blind panic made her lunge sideways past the Captain. Thomas hit the door just ahead of her, slamming it shut. Julia dodged his reaching hands. Her foot got tangled in Mohammed's robes. She tripped and fell, knocking her head hard against the floor. Before she could even try to get up, the reek of chemicals stole her senses and left her floating in the dark.

# # # #

Pain. Waves of horrible, red, pulsating pain. Julia shook her head, trying to wake up from this latest nightmare. Fresh agony crashed through her skull, making her stomach twist. Bile gushed up her throat. She choked and coughed and finally spat. Julia opened her eyes to what might well have been Hell itself. She was in some kind of large wooden box. The heat was stifling. The stink of open latrines surrounded her, making her stomach heave again. As her tormented senses returned, she tried to grasp the nature of her prison.

Her fingers closed on the sides of a folding cot. The metal was so hot she snatched both hands back. The thin mattress she lay on stank of several previous occupants. The strong possibility insects or other vermin made Julia sit bolt upright. Her head swam. She got up on her feet, staggered, and fetched up smartly against a wall. The wood flexed a little as her weight hit it.

"Where am I?" The dry croak that was her voice sent more pain ricocheting around inside her head. Bracing herself with her fingers in her ears, Julia took a deep breath. "I am a British subject! I demand to know where I am!"

The red flashes of pain darkened to black, bringing with them an ominous humming and flickering. Julia slid down the wall and landed in the hot sand beneath her feet. She put her head between her knees. The dizziness faded, but the pain remained unbearable. What a pity she'd lost yet another revolver. She could thwart the enemy's schemes and rid herself of this malevolent headache with just one clean shot.

"Who are you?" she cried. "What do you want with me? Are you out there? Answer me, damn you!"

Julia put her head in her hands and sobbed. The quiet voice of practicality chided her for wasting precious moisture on tears. She leaned her head back against the wooden planking, fanning herself with her hands. She had known something like this was going to happen, even before she woke up in that hospital bed. She'd used up whatever luck she had. The next time she crossed paths with Ardeth Bey's mysterious mission, it would get her killed. That she was alive at all right now told her how prolonged and gruesome that death would most likely be.

"Ah, Miss Lawrence! Awake at last?"

A man's voice, right next to her ear. Julia jumped, then flung herself across the hut.

"Are you there, Miss? I thought I heard you call out."

"Who-- Who are you?" Julia stared at the plank wall. Through cracks in the wood she could see the outline of another person. "Did you put me in here?"

"Never! I would have spared you if I could. I'm afraid Bennett has gone quite mad."

"Mr. Bennett? Dr. Townshend's assistant?"

"That's right. That should give you a large hint as to who I might be."

Julia stood up, staggered sideways, and fetched up against another wall. She made her way back to where she had been sitting and leaned against the wall for support.

"Dr. Townshend? But this is impossible! Why on earth would you kidnap both me and Ardeth Bey?"

"He got the Med-Jai too, did he? Clever bastard. I suppose he used you as bait?"

"We were attacked in my flat, yes."

"Brilliant. Did he send that smirking Yank to bring you in?"

"If by that you mean the one they call the 'Captain,' yes. Along with a blond man called Thomas and a short swarthy man."

"Thomas and DiPaglia. Of course."

"Why am I here?" Julia asked. "For that matter, why are you here? Are you just sitting out there laughing at me?"

"Not at all, dear lady. I assure you I am caged in a cell every bit as unpleasant as yours."

"Why on earth would Mr. Bennett take you prisoner?"

"Because while he needs my name and my authority, he has no use for my morals or my objections."

"So Mr. Bennett was behind the theft of the artifacts?"

"Yes indeed." Dr. Townshend chuckled to himself. "When he discovered the artifacts were fakes, Jameson was dead, and both you and the Med-Jai were still very much alive, he very nearly foamed at the mouth!"

"Why did he want the artifacts?"

"Why would anyone want those artifacts? They're rare, singular, and, if it's not all superstitious poppycock, they are quite powerful."

"To what end?"

"Ah, now that's where you have me. I don't know, and I never did. Bennett had convinced himself they could be used to perform some ghastly necromantic ceremony."

"What would he stand to gain if the ceremony succeeded?"

"I've been giving that considerable thought. About six months ago Bennett took a strange interest in two memorable characters of ancient Egyptian history. One was the mistress of the Pharaoh Seti I. Her name was Anck-su-Namun. Cleopatra and Nefertiti were the ugly girls at the dance compared to her. You see-- "

"All this is about some ancient Egyptian trollop?"

"Miss Lawrence, would you please do me the kindness of hearing me out?"

His acerbic tone made Julia smile. When a British gentleman retreated into formal courtesy, he was either furious or terrified. Possibly both.

"Anck-su-Namun is merely the bait," he said, "much like you were in the trap Bennett set for Ardeth Bey. Once she has been brought back from the underworld and given a new body, Bennett thinks he'll be able to use her as a hostage against his real target, Prince Imhotep, once Keeper of the City of the Dead."

"But-- They're dead! They've been dead for thousands of years! Aren't they just so much dust in the bottom of a canopic jar somewhere?"

"If only that were the case." Dr. Townshend paused. "I'm rather surprised at you, Miss Lawrence. I'd heard Bennett remark on how much time the Med-Jai spends near you, if not by your side. Surely you know why the Med-Jai do what they do, and do it so ruthlessly?"

Julia looked down at her right hand. The silver ring still gleamed there, the proof of Ardeth Bey's high regard for her. She fretted with it, sliding the warm silver up and down her finger. Where was Ardeth Bey? She had no idea if he was alive or already dead!

"Miss Lawrence? Are you all right?"

Julia sat on her cot, careful to keep the backs of her calves away from the hot metal. "Tell me something, Doctor. Why would Bennett have Ardeth Bey drugged instead of just shooting him?"

"Ah, so they did use the veterinary rifle, did they?"

"What do you mean?"

"I will not allow the hunting of predators on my dig sites. I insist any such creature be tranquilized and moved to the most distant part of its hunting territory. It's safe to assume Ardeth Bey was shot with a tranquilizer dart sufficient to drop an adult male lion in his tracks for the better part of twenty-four hours."

"What time is it now?" Julia winced, rubbing her temples. "For that matter, what day is it?"

"They brought you in last night, and it's a four hour journey from Cairo by car. That would make it something close to twenty-six or twenty-eight hours."

"So Ardeth should be waking up soon." Julia nodded to herself. "That means I have to get out of here and find him!"

"And how do you propose to do that?"

Julia circled the inside of the hut, looking for any weakness in the boards. They were flexible, yet thick enough to withstand whatever kicking and pounding she could inflict on them. The door itself was locked with a sturdy hasp and padlock. That left the floor. Julia began scooping away the sand in the back corner across from the cot. If the sand was deep enough, perhaps she could tunnel out.

"Miss Lawrence, really, do save your strength. Even if you did get out of your cell, you are in the middle of a remote part of the Sahara with night coming on."

Julia stood up and slapped the sand from her skirt and legs. Pain and exasperation left her ready to explode. "Have you a better idea, Doctor? I am all ears."

"Simply wait. Bennett's men will be coming for you, to take you to the place Bennett has chosen for the ceremony. If Ardeth Bey is not already dead, he will be there also. This is your best and only hope of finding him. From then an any hope we have of thwarting Bennett's plan will be a matter of luck and brilliant improvisation."

Julia sank down on the cot, exhausted by the heat and her labors and now this altogether too likely forecast of doom.

"You never did answer me, Miss Lawrence. Do you know why the Brotherhood of the Med-Jai exists?"

Julia stretched out on the cot, resigning herself to the additional agony of being lectured. "Do tell me all about it, Dr. Townshend. I'm somewhat reluctant to ask Mr. Bey. It would seem so forward."

"Indeed, indeed."

Dr. Townshend's avuncular laugh made Julia roll her eyes. She crossed her arms over her eyes and tried to distance herself from the pain of her migraine while Dr. Townshend droned on.

It all began with a high priest and a concubine who should never have loved each other. Illicit passion led to betrayal and murder of the pharaoh himself. The pharaoh's concubine killed herself before the Med-Jai could stop her, trusting Prince Imhotep to bring her back from the dead. She left him to face the full wrath of the Med-Jai alone. For murdering the pharaoh, the man-god of Egypt, the Med-Jai forced Prince Imhotep to curse the concubine and damn her soul to endless torment. In spite of having done so, Prince Imhotep managed to steal her body and take it to Hamunaptura, City of the Dead. The Med-Jai arrived in time to halt the blasphemous ceremony before Prince Imhotep could restore the concubine's organs to her mummified body. For this outrage Prince Imhotep was condemned to be mummified alive. The Med-Jai saw him shut into his sarcophagus with dozens of scarabs, flesh eaters who could survive by devouring him slowly over the coming centuries.

At last Dr. Townshend ground to a halt. There was something expectant about his silence.

"I take it there's a moral to this story?" Julia said. "As in never get on the wrong side of an Egyptian king or his personal army."

"Exactly. This is where Bennett has made the crucial mistake."

"A mistake? How so?"

"Ardeth Bey and his men are the direct descendants of the pharaoh's royal bodyguard. Ardeth Bey is duty-bound to stop Bennett, no matter what the cost."

"Which makes me wonder once again why Mr. Bennett settled for drugging Ardeth Bey instead of killing him outright."

"Bennett never does anything without a very good reason. You can be sure death will be the eventual result, but for the moment, Bennett must have some use for the Med-Jai."

Julia pressed Ardeth Bey's ring to her lips. The heat was so intense the silver almost burned her. She had to get out of this cell and find Ardeth Bey. That was her one clear objective. But how?

Heavy footsteps crunched through the sand toward her. Someone hammered at her door. Julia groaned, clapping her hands to her ears to shut out the agonizing noise.

"Miss Lawrence?" The Captain's voice, calm and mildly amused as ever. "Kindly step away from the door, all the way to the back wall of your cell."

Before Julia could struggle up onto her feet, the padlock clicked open, the hasp screeched back, and the door to Julia's cell opened. Thomas stood there, the pistol in his hand aimed directly at her legs. Julia slowly rose and backed away until her shoulders brushed the wall behind her. Nodding, Thomas stepped aside. DiPaglia leaned in just far enough to toss a bundle on Julia's cot. Now the Captain himself appeared, standing just behind Thomas.

"Why don't I save us both some time, Miss Lawrence? Get yourself cleaned up and into that outfit. Any stalling on your part will result in my ordering Thomas and DiPaglia to help you achieve the desired effect."

He smiled at her. Julia saw no warmth there, no humanity. She might have been looking into the jaws of a shark.

"Do we understand each other, Miss Lawrence?"

Julia nodded.

"Excellent. You have fifteen minutes."

Thomas stepped back. The door closed, the hasp screeched home, and the padlock clicked shut.

Julia unrolled the bundle. The cloth itself was very fine unbleached linen, made to resemble the kilt-like garments worn by men and women in ancient Egypt. That and a pile of jewelry were all she'd been given to wear. Julia glared at the door. The Captain might believe he had every advantage in his machine guns and fancy rifles and those two muscle-bound morons, but if he thought he could make Julia parade around in little more than knickers and nothing else, he was sadly mistaken. Julia stripped down to her full slip, stockings, and shoes. She tied the kilt around her hips as best she could, fussing with the knot until the kilt hung in even folds.

The array of jewelry included an assortment of gold bangles for her wrists and ankles, a golden pectoral inlaid with carnelian, lapis lazuli, and onyx, and a long chain of beads, tiny amulets, and scarabs. The chain stumped her until she decided it was meant for her hair. Julia smiled on the no doubt stolen trinkets. She would put them on in whatever fashion suited her, and the Egyptologists could go to hell. Perhaps her ignorance of that particular discipline would buy her valuable time by forcing her captors to get her fancy dress sorted out.

"Miss Lawrence!" Dr. Townshend's harsh whisper came from somewhere behind her. "I say, can you hear me?"

"Where are you?"

"Take this. Hurry!"

Julia spotted a scrap of dark fabric wiggling up and down near the floor. Dr. Townshend had stuffed the scrap through a knothole in that plank. Julia bent down and took it. Her fingers closed around a hard object wrapped up in the cloth. It was a piece of alabaster carved into the shape of a lion couchant, an amulet like the ones now wound around her braid. While those were barely an inch long, the lion was larger and more detailed, nearly the size of her thumb.

"This is all the help I can give you," Dr. Townshend explained. "It's meant to keep the heart pure on the journey through the underworld."

"I see. So it will only be of use to me once I'm already dead."

"No no no! Silly girl! You're the centerpiece of Bennett's mad ceremony. With this you can fight fire with fire."

"You don't really think Mr. Bennett will succeed, do you?"

Dr. Townshend sighed. "I'm very much afraid he might. He managed to locate one of the last surviving cults of Anubis. Their high priest will be performing the ceremony."

"Oh." Julia's knees gave. She slumped on her cot. "Lovely." She held the lion amulet in what few rays of sunlight seeped through cracks in the walls. Its markings meant nothing to her. Not for the first time, she wished she'd paid more attention to that class on hieroglyphics. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"If they offer you anything to eat or drink, don't touch it. Odds are very good it will be drugged."

"Even water?"

"Especially water."

A brisk knock rattled her door. "Miss Lawrence? Your time is up."

Once again Thomas unlocked the door, holding it open with one hand while keeping his pistol trained on Julia's legs. Thomas looked her over, then stepped back to shake his head at someone else. The Captain appeared in the doorway. He looked at Julia and frowned.

"No, I'm afraid that won't do at all. Thomas?"

When Thomas took a step forward, Julia raised her chin and held her ground.

"You told me to put this ridiculous costume on. I am wearing all of it. You said nothing at all about how much I was to take off in the process."

The Captain regarded her in chilly silence. After a moment, he inclined his head in the barest nod. "That is quite true, Miss Lawrence. The fault is mine, for not being more explicit." He motioned her out.

The lion amulet lay hidden in her fist. Julia feigned a cough and slipped the amulet into her mouth, holding it clenched between her back teeth. She stepped out, taking full advantage of her momentary freedom to look all around her and get some sense of place. A row of five cells had been built into the lea of the rock to be sheltered from the day's worst heat. Off to one side sat a crate with a water jug atop it. A wooden cup sat rim down beside the jug. Propped against the wall of Dr. Townshend's cell stood a litter made of two wooden poles and some coarse blankets. When Julia saw that, her heart began to pound. Wherever they were taking her, they didn't expect her to walk. That meant Dr. Townshend was right about the drug.

"You are in for a long evening, Miss Lawrence," the Captain said. He pointed to the tray DiPaglia carried. On it sat a dusty loaf of coarse bread and some cheese that was well past its prime. Looking wholly out of place was the silver wine goblet polished to mirror brightness and brimming with some pale yellow liquid. "I suggest you fortify yourself while you can."

Julia considered the situation. She could find only one way to accomplish the first of the few panicked ideas that made up her plan. She folded her arms tight across her chest and shook her head.

"Miss Lawrence, this is not open to debate. Kindly finish everything on that tray."

DiPaglia thrust the tray at her. Julia shied back, giving him a venomous glare. He returned it with added spite. Apparently Mr. DiPaglia didn't care for dancing attendance on her like a servant. Julia smiled with excessive sweetness calculated to make him suspicious, then picked up the goblet and flung the contents in his face. With a roar DiPaglia threw aside the tray. The back of his meaty hand caught Julia full across the cheek and sent her reeling. The Captain caught her before she could hit the ground.

"DiPaglia!" he snapped. "Mr. Bennett's orders were very clear. Not a mark on her before the ceremony."

Julia hung limp in the Captain's awkward embrace. He shook her, trying to provoke some reflex, even going so far as to push his thumb into the stitching on her right shoulder. Despite the pain she stayed loose, biting the lion amulet much as she would a bullet.

"Well. You have indeed accomplished our objective, if by needlessly brutal means. Let's get her on the litter. The sooner we're in and out the better."

Moments later the Captain laid Julia down on the litter's coarse woolen blankets. She tried to relax. DiPaglia's backhand hadn't done anything to help her headache, and the slight sway of the litter brought on her nausea again. She let her head flop to one side and opened that eye to see where they were going. The hillside above was dotted with dark openings, to tombs or caverns or worse.

In much too short a time the sunlight was eclipsed as the three mercenaries carried Julia into the outer caverns. Dust filled the air, mixed with the smoke and ash of torches. It was all Julia could do to avoid coughing and risk either spitting out the lion amulet or choking on it. By the increasing closeness of bodies brushing against her and the muffled sound of the men's voices, she guessed they were heading in and down. Julia wished she'd paid more attention to Dr. Townshend's lecture. This was not Hamunaptura, could not be Hamunaptura itself, or Dr. Townshend would have said so. Julia did not feel reassured. This must be another one of the cursed sites, another burial ground for victims of the Hom-Dai. Despite her efforts to stay limp and still, a shuddered passed through her.

They emerged into a large cavern. Flickering golden light shone through Julia's eyelids. More torches, perhaps even candles, all over the cavern. Her escort carried her down uneven steps to the floor of the cavern.

"She still out?" DiPaglia's voice. "I no hit her so hard!"

"Hm, yes," the Captain said. "Keep it level and I'll move her."

The Captain reached across Julia to grip the far side of her garments, then rolled her off the litter and onto a long hard surface. Stone. And stone cold. Julia flinched, then forced herself to relax against her new resting place. Her fingertips brushed the surface. A deep, narrow trench ran all the way around the inside edge of what was most likely a slab of black basalt. The blood gutter. This was indeed a sacrificial altar.

"What the hell is she wearing?" Mr. Bennett's voice rang out, above and away to her left. "I told you exactly what she was supposed to look like!"

"Sir," the Captain said. "I thought it best to allow Miss Lawrence this much modesty. In every other way she did as she was told. If we had been forced to dress her according to your exact specifications, she would have fought us to the point where we could not avoid doing her some damage, however slight."

"Did you got the drug into her?"

"No, sir."

"Then why is she like that?"

"There was a small altercation with one of my men. He rendered her unconscious."

The sound of Mr. Bennett's gratified chuckle made Julia long to kick him where it would ruin any humorous impulse for a good long time.

"As long as she's in no condition to interfere. Thanks to her daredevil antics at Jamahl's shop, we've had to set everything back almost a month. I want no mistakes tonight, understood? Not a single one!"

"Yes, sir."

"Now get back outside," Mr. Bennett said. "It's time to hand things over to Mr. Iqbal."

The crunch of heavy boots faded, moving up and away. Other people closed in around Julia with a swish of robes and the smell of some thick, flowery incense. Her attendants clustered around the altar. By the crackling of joints she guessed them to be kneeling. Led by the high priest, they began to chant, low and rhythmic and with a pitch that crawled in behind Julia's eyes and made her bones itch. Hellish harmonics, indeed.

Strange hands touched her wrists and ankles, adjusting the hang of her various gold baubles. A quiet but intense debate was held right above her while more strange hands lifted her hair, smoothing it as one might stroke a cat. One voice prevailed and her hair was left in its braid with the jeweled chain wound around it. Julia's jaw ached from the strain of holding the lion amulet between her teeth.

The voice that prevailed in the hair debate now cried out in that peculiar language. Hands clapped above her. From somewhere above Julia came the sound of men cursing and struggling.

"That's right! Bring him here!" If Mr. Bennett's chuckle was odious, his triumphant laughter was positively loathsome. "Our mighty Med-Jai isn't so fierce now, is he?"

Julia risked opening one eye the barest fraction. Four burly men in desert fatigues hauled Ardeth Bey out of another tunnel entrance. They had him by the arms and legs. Even so, he thrashed and fought with every ounce of his considerable strength. They'd stripped him to the waist. The beautiful symmetry of his naked torso was splotched with bruises and the raw red lines of whipmarks. Julia gave silent thanks for the sight of his fully conscious fury. If they had drugged him again, escape would have been impossible.

Another two of Bennett's mercenaries had to join their comrades in pinning Ardeth Bey to a natural stone pillar while he was chained there hand and foot. Mr. Bennett himself closed the iron collar around Ardeth Bey's throat.

"There now, Mr. Bey. You have the best seat in the house. You do know what you're about to see, don't you?"

Ardeth Bey said nothing. Julia heard a meaty thwack and a grunt of pain. They'd chained him up like an animal and now they were beating him like a disobedient dog. Within Julia anger blossomed, white hot and furious, burning away her fear.

"I realize you're nothing but an ignorant Bedouin," Mr. Bennett said, "So I'll tell you exactly what's about to happen. The high priest down there is going to carve little Miss Lawrence up into all the bits we need to bring Anck-su-Namun back to life."

Ardeth Bey held his silence, but Julia could feel a corresponding anger blaze up inside him, burning like the incandescent core of a star.

"You will not succeed." Ardeth Bey spoke in a voice full of conviction, full of menace. "The curse will take you before you can profit from this sacrilege."

"This is not your precious Hamunaptura. Even so, any curse on this site will take you long before it ever touches me." Mr. Bennett laughed. "I will hear you scream like a woman before the sun rises."

"I will see your lifeblood pouring out like the Nile across these stones. This I swear."

The high priest called out again, clapping his hands twice. A feathery touch on Julia's forehead left a trail of something sticky on her skin. More feathery brushes tickled her eyelids, her lips, and a spot just below the hollow of her throat. Someone tugged on the shoulder strap of her slip, muttering in that same obscure language. The cold metal of a dagger blade pressed against her shoulder. Julia held her breath. The blade slid down along her neckline, hooked into the fabric of her slip, and ripped it open down the middle. For once she was grateful for the Victorian prudery that required her to wear such underclothes. The priests would need more than a dagger to cut through the wire on the next layer down. Apparently that wouldn't be necessary. The paintbrushes did their work on her belly, her knees, and her feet.

The chanting dimmed to a murmur. The high priest called out in tones that made Julia think of her own mother calling her home across the hedgerows. A darker note entered the strange language. It made something deep inside Julia want to run and hide. Somewhere nearby, below the level of the altar, water sloshed and roiled. Her attendants shied back, making tiny noises of awe and fright. A harsh word from the high priest spurred their fading chant. The strain was driving Julia mad. The instinct by which the prey fled the predator made her tense up from head to foot. She wanted to open her eyes, to sit up, to see whatever horror was brewing nearby. Her teeth grated on the lion amulet. She prodded it with her tongue, shifting it a little.

Now the liquid nearby came to a roiling boil, bubbles bursting with a nasty gelid pop. Something tore loose from its surface, making a horrible squelching sound. The air above Julia darkened, turning thick and noxious. Something clammy, something vile, hovered in the air just above her. Julia shut her eyes tight and hunched back against the cold stone altar. She clenched her teeth even tighter against the need to scream with terror. The lion amulet grated between her molars. Part of it popped off, spilling a powdery substance on Julia's tongue. A strange tingling gripped her. Julia panicked, desperate to roll over and spit out this ancient debris. Perhaps Dr. Townshend had tricked her and this was the drug!

Before Julia could marshal her chaotic thoughts into clear action, the tingling became a glow, its warmth a painless burning. It flooded through Julia and hovered just beneath her skin. She felt calm, serene, supremely confident. Her eyes opened. Above her hovered an oily black mass, gaping at her with empty eye sockets and a tongueless mouth. A name bobbed into her mind, borne up out of somewhere by the golden tide. Anck-su-Namun. This was the murderous concubine's damned soul. Julia's right hand rose, her fingers spreading to draw some complicated pattern in the air. A horrid shriek tore through the chamber, a keening of utter despair. The slime-thing fell apart, raining its evil goo all over Julia and the altar. Where the good struck her bare skin it hissed and boiled away. The rest of it slipped and slithered back across the floor to its mother-pool.

Julia sat up and looked at the high priest. Bald, thin-lipped, with a proud and hawkish profile, this man looked capable of taking on any god and coming out the winner. The longer Julia stared at him, the paler he became. Julia smiled, then gave him a nod of acknowledgement. The high priest looked from the pool to Julia and back again. He flung himself down on his knees before the altar, crying out in plain terror. The other priests and acolytes hurled themselves face down as well.

Julia looked up at the stone pillar where Bennett held Ardeth Bey captive. She gasped in pure wonder. Within Ardeth Bey burned a light, slender, sharp, and brilliant, so pure and white it seemed limned in blue. Ardeth Bey stared down at her, his face set in a mask of pure hatred. Did he understand she had not been possessed? Julia swung her legs off the altar and stood on her feet. It was all she could do not to float away on the wings of whatever was in that powder.

"Did it work?" Mr. Bennett's voice cut through the awed silence. "Is that her? Answer me, damn you!"

The high priest risked glancing up at Julia. She closed her eyes in a slow blink. Keeping his head down, the high priest nodded.

"Splendid." Bennett slapped Ardeth Bey on the shoulder. "Sorry, old boy. Looks like your little playmate really has gone off with Anubis."

Ardeth Bey bared his teeth in a savage parody of a smile. "When your time comes, you will beg for death."

Chuckling, Bennett made his way down the steps to the cavern floor, pausing just beyond the ring of terrified priests and acolytes. He looked Julia over, shaking his head.

"Poor Miss Lawrence. Not quite England's loveliest rose, was she? No matter. After three thousand years in a stone box, I imagine Imhotep will think even she looks good."

Julia smiled. Any qualms she might have had about Ardeth Bey killing Mr. Bennett were now flung side by her own need to do so.

Mr. Bennett moved around the circle to the high priest and prodded the shaking man with the toe of his boot. "Mr. Iqbal. Kindly tell the lady my terms."

The high priest cowered further. Mr. Bennett planted his foot on the high priest's backside and shoved him toward Julia, making him sprawl across her feet. The high priest rained kisses on her shoes, careful never to touch her skin. Julia watched with amusement. So this was what it looked like to have someone grovel at you feet. She rather liked it.

Not daring to raise his head, the high priest babbled something at Julia. She thought it sounded more like a plea for mercy than any foolish attempt at setting terms. Whoever the high priest thought she was, it was not this Anck-su-Namun.

Julia turned a look of regal indifference on Mr. Bennett and arched one eyebrow. To his credit, he didn't even look shaken.

"Can you understand me?" he asked.

Julia nodded.

"Madam, I'm here to offer you an opportunity to regain all you have lost and punish those who took it from you."

Mr. Bennett stepped forward, about to cross the circle that surrounded the altar. Julia shied back, sucking air in through her teeth in an inverted hiss. Her expression of rage turned the gesture into one of rebuke rather than fear. Mr. Bennett backed away.

"Very well, very well. Tell me, Madam, how would you like to be reunited with your lover? With Prince Imhotep, Keeper of the City of the Dead?"

Julia put on a look of hope, desperate, pathetic hope. It was more genuine than she cared to admit. Mr. Bennett smiled.

"I thought so. It's very simple. All we have to do is call him back, the same way we called you."

Although Julia knew full well the answer to her next question, she gestured at the empty altar slab.

"I've taken care of all the details." Bennett pointed to Ardeth Bey. "You see that man up there? He is Med-Jai, the leader of those who struck down your beloved, halting your resurrection and condemning Imhotep to the Hom-Dai."

Julia made herself flinch at the name of the curse, then turned a look of sheer spite upon Ardeth Bey. He still watched her, his skin a sickly white beneath its outer tan. His jaw was set. In his eyes burned twin flames of hatred and rage. Julia smiled, slow and catlike, then blew him a mocking kiss.

"That's right," Mr. Bennett said. "He's all yours. Do whatever you want with him, just don't kill him."

Julia turned a haughty look on Mr. Bennett, telling him exactly what she thought of his presumption.

"This is the best part," Mr. Bennett said. "The vehicle of Prince Imhotep's return will be the body of this Med-Jai."

Julia staring up at Ardeth Bey, mimicking Mr. Bennett's triumphant sneer.

"Would you like me to bring him down here to you?" Mr. Bennett asked. "Of course, Madam. Nothing could be easier." He turned to the four mercenaries flanking Ardeth Bey. "Get him down here. Now!"

Julia watched with avid interest. She heard Mr. Bennett mutter something to himself in a satisfied tone. He thought she was nothing more than the pharaoh's high-priced whore, easily distracted and easily betrayed.

Four of the mercenaries had to pin Ardeth Bey's thrashing, cursing body to the pillar as two others unlocked his shackles. One mercenary staggered back, propelled by Ardeth Bay's boots planted squarely on his chest. As the next mercenary toppled off the landing, Julia saw Ardeth Bey moving like a human tornado, arms and legs almost a blur as he dealt out swift and bloody retribution.

Julia reached down and patted the high priest on his bald head. He cringed, then forced himself to glance up at her. Julia smiled. She pointed to him, to all the acolytes and priests around them, then to the mouth of the tunnel that led upward to the outside world. The high priest needed no prompting. The relief on his face was terrible to see, telling Julia what he had expected in place of her mercy. He scrambled around the altar to the far side of the circle, barking orders at his people. Loud gasps and muttered words of relief were quickly shushed. The priests and acolytes rose up as one man and followed the high priest to the stone staircase at a run.

"Stop!" Mr. Bennett roared. "Where the bloody hell do you think you're going?" He pulled a walkie-talkie out of his jacket pocket. "Riggs! Carnahan! Something spooked the priests. Get them back down here!"

The mob of priests and acolytes only added to the confusion on the landing. Ardeth Bey snatched up a machine gun from the body of one mercenary and sprayed the landing with bullets, mowing down the last of his captors and several of the acolytes. When his ammo clip ran out, Ardeth Bey flung aside the machine gun and leaped off the edge of the landing, somersaulting as he fell. A smooth shoulder roll brought him up on his feet and racing toward Mr. Bennett.

Mr. Bennett reached into his jacket and pulled out a pistol. He grabbed Julia by her braid and jerked down flat on the altar. She found herself staring up the barrel as the muzzle hovered right between her eyes. Ardeth Bey skidded to a stop a few feet away, chest heaving with the force of his exertions. Mr. Bennett nodded.

"That's right. One more step and she dies."

Julia let out her breath, sinking into the golden tide. She submitted to it, let it flood through her in a great glittering wave. Her hands rose of their own will and seized Mr. Bennett's wrist, thrusting the pistol to one side. She wrenched it from his hand and rolled off the altar.

"Just a moment, Madam." Mr. Bennett mopped at his sweating brow. "You will have everything I promised you, I assure you. If I might have that back?"

Julia smiled, then shook her head. She turned to Ardeth Bey, who stared at her with that same hatred mingled with profound grief. Julia tucked the pistol into her kilt and took one very deliberate step back. With a snarl Ardeth Bey dove across the altar, straight at Mr. Bennett.

More of Mr. Bennett's mercenaries arrived, pouring in through different archways, leaping off the edge of the upper level and racing down the stone stairs. Julia spat the figurine out into her palm, swallowed the powder still coating her tongue, then concentrated on the face of the high priest. The golden tide roared up her throat and out her mouth in a strange warbling cry. Spoken in the high priest's language, it was the phrase that every wise traveler learned before venturing into terra incognito.

"Help me!"

Bennett's mercenaries had locked and loaded with their sights on Ardeth Bey. Both his hands were clamped around Mr. Bennett's throat. Julia ran to Ardeth Bey, dragging at his arm.

"Ardeth, it's me," Julia said. "It's really me!"

For a moment Ardeth Bey's murderous fury subsided. Profound relief crossed his face. For an instant his eyes closed and his shoulders sagged. He punched Mr. Bennett across the jaw, knocking him senseless. Julia saw shadows moving in the tunnel above. Taking a deep breath, she screamed her own private war cry again. A voice answered her, a voice burning with the loyalty of the newly converted.

"We come, O Lady! The cup of victory overflows with the blood of the unbelievers!"

The high priest appeared in the mouth of the tunnel, holding his sacrificial dagger high. The blade gleamed bright red. The other priests and acolytes swept down on Bennett's mercenaries. In the time it took the mercenaries to realize the priests were no longer allies, it was too late. Only a few had the sense to start shooting immediately. Some of the priests and acolytes fell. All of Mr. Bennett's mercenaries went down.

Now the high priest turned his fiery eyes toward Ardeth Bey. "Speak the word, O Lady, and this one shall be yours as well."

Julia looked at the priests and acolytes, at the sweat gleaming on their bald heads and the blood dripping from their daggers. Somehow the situation had just become even more dangerous. If she couldn't keep her hold on the high priest, she'd end up as dead as the mercenaries. There was only one way to show the high priest Ardeth Bey was already hers.

Julia tapped the last of the lion amulet's powder onto her tongue. She turned to Ardeth Bey, slid her hands up his bare chest and into his thick black hair, then pulled him down to her. She kissed him, plunging her tongue into his mouth. At the taste of the powder Ardeth Bey jerked back. Even he couldn't break the unnatural strength of Julia's embrace. The golden tide roared through Julia, pulsing with the beat of her heart. She sensed the blaze spread to Ardeth Bey, beating time with his heartbeat, his slowing, hers accelerating, until they held each other in perfect union, hearts and minds and bodies in ultimate harmony. He caught her up in his arms. Julia shuddered at the sudden intensity of his kiss.

When Julia opened her eyes, she gasped. Ardeth Bey was still Ardeth Bey, but all the more so. He seemed taller, darker, stronger, more intense. The tattoos across his forehead and cheeks, down his arms, and on his chest and belly blazed bright with sapphire flame. Julia could do nothing but stare at him, caught in a paralyzing mix of awe and terror and molten desire.

"Who am I?" Julia hadn't even thought the question. It rose up from within her, from within the golden tide.

"My Queen. My love." Ardeth Bey sealed the words with another soul-scorching kiss. "Who am I?"

"My King. My love."

Still locked in their embrace, they turned to face the high priest. He sank to his knees, mouth working soundlessly as he tried to speak. The other priests and acolytes dropped to their knees also, pressing their faces to the cavern floor.

"What is he saying?" Julia spoke the words out of the corner of her mouth.

"He thinks-- Yes. He thinks you are Sekhmet, the warrior goddess, come to punish the infidels who would profane this place for their greed."

"And you?"

Ardeth Bey didn't answer. When the high priest ran out of words, he bowed his face to the floor. Ardeth Bey turned Julia toward the stone stairway and gave her a gentle push.

"Go now," he said. "Go up to the surface. It will be safe. The priests have killed all of Bennett's men."

"What are you going to do?"

Ardeth Bey looked down at her, into her very soul. The dark gems of his eyes now burned with the golden fire.

"What needs to be done. Now go."

Julia's body obeyed his command. Her legs took her up the stairs, up the inclined tunnel, through the twists and turns to the airy quiet of the desert night. Dead mercenaries lay sprawled here and there, proof of the priests' slaughter. Keeping her eyes fixed ahead of her, Julia ran to the cells. The golden glow had begun to dim a little, the buoyant feeling fading back into earthbound fatigue.

"Dr. Townshend?" Julia hammered on his door. "Dr. Townshend?"

His door was locked with another crude hasp and padlock. Calling on the last of her magical strength, Julia kicked at the door's planks until they burst off the hinges. Dr. Townshend huddled in one corner. He was a tall stork of a man, his long legs with their bony knees drawn up against his chest. His hand darted under the collar of his filthy Oxford shirt. He yanked out a large scarab strung on a cord with mummy beads, stammering something in pidgin Arabic.

The golden tide went out, leaving Julia exhausted. She slumped against the splintered door jamb. "I'm sorry, could I have that again in the King's English?"

"Miss Lawrence? Can that be you?"

"I've been wondering that myself. Come out. It's all over."

"Then-- Mr. Bennett did not succeed? You found a way to stop him?"

"You found a way." She held up the figurine. "Did you know what was inside this?"

"Inside? You mean it's hollow? I had no idea!"

"Oh please, Dr. Townshend. A scholar of your reputation does not attain such fame by being ignorant of something so basic."

Dr. Townshend stood up, brushing off his rumpled clothes. "Very well. That ushabti held a small amount of the powdered remains I found in a canopic jar on an earlier dig."

"'Powdered remains'?" Julia's stomach refused to accept what her ears were hearing. She shoved the hideous idea away and concentrated on the next question. "And where was this?"

"It will do you no good to ask me. The site is gone, the dig abandoned, the--"

One last golden spark flared within Julia. "Tell me."

"Sekhmet!" Dr. Townshend jumped, then made a great show of straightening his glasses and tidying his hair. "A temple dedicated to the Egyptian goddess of war."

"What did this Sekhmet have to do with the underworld?"

"Well, I daresay she was responsible for sending a good many souls on that journey."

"How very droll." Julia staggered over to the water jug sitting on the crate nearby. She trickled some of the water into the wooden cup that sat next to the jug, then rinsed the taste of the powder from her mouth.

"I say, what of your friend the Med-Jai?" Dr. Townshend asked. "I do hope he didn't-- I mean to say, he isn't-- "

"He's down there doing what I believe is colloquially referred to as 'mopping up.'" Julia filled the cup again and handed it to Dr. Townshend as he approached. "I gave him what was left of the powder."

The cup slipped through Dr. Townshend's fingers and hit the ground, spilling its precious contents onto the thirsty sands.

"You didn't!"

"It was the only advantage I had. What else could I do?"

"But-- You have no idea what effect it might have!" His shock was pushed aside by his professional curiosity. "Can you describe the effects? On him, I mean?"

"Only what I could see. His Med-Jai markings burned like blue fire."

"Oh my. Oh my word. Do you have any idea-- "

"None. And I don't care. We're alive, Mr. Bennett is either dead or wishing he was, and Imhotep is still rotting in some Egyptian hell." Julia sank down onto a patch of soft, dry sand. "At the moment I'd even be happy to see the camel that will get me out of here."

From the depths of the caverns came a harsh wailing chant, the sound of many male voices, young and old. Julia wasn't sure if she really heard it, or if it was some echo of the golden power. The chant reached its peak, then stopped abruptly. Julia turned her face away, letting the night wind dry any tears she might have shed. She didn't need the golden power to tell her that silence meant death. Ardeth Bey did what had to be done. He did it so the children of the world slept safe in their beds another night.

Dr. Townshend started toward the entrance to the caverns. Julia called after him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Doctor."

"But-- Those priests! All those soldiers-- I've got to know-- "

"You'll pay for that knowledge with your life. Now sit down and wait for Ardeth Bey. He should be joining us momentarily."

"How can you be so sure?"

"When I left him, the priests had prostrated themselves before him. I really don't think he's in any danger."

Something flashed up on the hillside. Julia looked up to see flickers of blue fire playing over the human figure that stood in the mouth of the tunnel entrance.

"There he is now."

"But-- Surely even he couldn't best that many men single-handed!"

Julia sighed. She was so tired. This must be what Ardeth Bey felt like all the time. She met Dr. Townshend's incredulous stare. "All he had to do was command them to kill themselves so no one would ever know the secret of what happened tonight."

When Ardeth Bey reached them, the blue fire illuminating his many tattoos had faded to a few dull sparks. He ignored Dr. Townshend and went straight to Julia, holding out both hands. She took them, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She looked up into his eyes, seeing sorrow and a weariness that went beyond words.

"It's all right," she said. "I understand."

Ardeth Bey dropped to his knees in the sand, his shoulders sagging. Julia knelt down and put her arms around him, offering him whatever silent comfort he would accept.

# # # #

Three days later Julia once again lay across Ardeth Bey's lap on her overstuffed, slightly dinghy but very comfortable green couch. They sat in companionable silence while he stroked her hair. She'd left it loose, allowing him to trail his long fingers through it again and again. He stared off into some inner vista. Julia waited. Sooner or later he would make whatever decision troubled him now.

Ardeth Bey wore a fresh set of Med-Jai robes. They concealed all the marks of the beating he'd taken at the hands of Bennett's mercenaries, all but the ugly bruise that spread across one cheekbone and disguised that tattoo. Julia touched the lump DiPaglia put on her jaw. She felt a peculiar rush of giddy happiness. It was typical of their strange relationship that Julia should feel closer to Ardeth Bey because they shared the same bruising.

Ardeth Bey shook his head. He looked distressed, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't think of the right words.

"Just tell me," Julia said. "You know I'll do whatever you ask."

A smile curved his lips, then faded. "It is so difficult."

"What is?"

He looked up at the ceiling, still searching for words. "If I were an Englishman, I would say to you, marry me. We would be married, and all would be well."

Julia stared at him. She'd been expecting some warning about what they'd just lived through together, how she must leave for London at once or now he could never see her again or something equally final. Never this.

"Marry me? You want to marry me?"

"Again and again we have been brought together. Again and again you have been the one to save my life." He looked down at her, stroking her cheek. "It seems Allah is telling me you are the woman to give me sons." The tenderness is his voice brought tears to Julia's eyes. Then he frowned, shaking his head again. "And yet so much stands in the way!"

A thousand thoughts whirled through Julia's mind. Daddy would like Ardeth Bey. Daddy would respect him as a man who did his duty, and as the man who loved her. Mother would be absolutely horrified. That alone made the whole idea even more attractive. With a mixture of joy and regret, Julia took Ardeth Bey's hand and in hers and pressed it to her lips.

"Thank you, Ardeth. I can't begin to tell you how much this means to me."

He drew breath to speak. For once Julia silenced him with a finger on his lips.

"You can't possibly ask me to marry you. Your people wouldn't stand for it."

He looked torn between relief and sorrow. "You understand that?"

"Of course I do. I know all about the Tuareg mores concerning marriage." She moved off his lap and stood up to face him. "As you once said, you were made for the desert, and I was made for the city. Besides, you're Muslim, I'm a Christian. Beyond all that, you are Med-Jai, and I'm just a foreign woman passing through."

"You are not!" Ardeth Bey rose and took her face in his hands. "You are far more than that to me. Surely you know that?"

"I do." Julia smiled up at him, covering his hands with hers. "All I'm saying is, I don't expect you to propose. You have your duties, I have my obligations. There will come a time when I must return to England, if only for my father's sake."

"But you would come back to Cairo?"

"If I had a reason to, yes."

"Then I shall I give you that reason."

Ardeth Bey looked at her for a long moment. There it was again, that strange intensity, but now he let Julia see all of it. Desire and longing, hope and fear, and something deeper, burning like the heart of a star. Julia wondered if he saw the same mirrored in her eyes. He looked away, then walked over to the window and stood gazing up at the stars.

"I have never loved a woman. Since I came to manhood I have lived my life as Med-Jai. Now my heart is torn. Every time I must leave you, a part of me remains behind. I find more and more reasons to return to Cairo, knowing that I will find you here." He tried to speak, faltered, tried again. "I do not know how to say this."

Julia stood frozen, transfixed by what she was hearing. There he stood, Ardeth Bey himself, proclaiming his love for her in terms greater and more powerful than any of her dreams.

"Twice now you and I have faced death together," he said, "and twice we have escaped. You are not of my world, and I am not of yours. Yet we are here, together." He looked out across the city to the desert that lay beyond. "Without you, my life would be a wasteland, empty, desolate, without relief."

Overcome with an almost dizzying joy, Julia wrapped her arms around his waist, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. "And without you, my life is nothing but paper and ink, words without meaning, dry and dull as the worst of the Sahara."

Ardeth Bey turned within her embrace. His dark eyes blazed with the full intensity of his feelings. Julia reached up to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through the raven silk of his hair. His hands settled on her waist. She lifted her chin, offering her lips. A sound rose out of Ardeth Bey's chest, something between a growl and a moan.

"What?" Julia asked. "What is it?"

"You are cool, clear water to my parched soul. I desire you as I have longed for nothing else." He squeezed his eyes tight shut and lifted his hands away from her. "I would not dishonor you."

"Dishonor? What dishonor could there possibly be?"

"I cannot marry you, cannot show you the respect and care a wife deserves." He turned his face away. "I would not insult you by making you another kind of woman."

"Listen to me." For once Julia took Ardeth Bey's face in her hands. "Open your eyes and listen to me."

He obeyed.

"Don't you remember what you said to me that night? Take from you what you willingly give, and ask you for nothing more. Why would I ever want you to give me your love against your will?"

His arms closed around her, crushing her against his chest. He murmured into her hair. "I would give you everything, everything I have, everything I am."

Julia held him just as tight, astonished and amazed and deliriously happy. Then she stepped back and forced herself to say the words that had to be said.

"You can't. You're Med-Jai. You've already sworn all you have to the Brotherhood."

"This is true." For once the mighty Ardeth Bey sounded exhausted and helpless. "What are we to do?"

Julia stroked his face, running her fingers along the softness of his beard. "Hear me, Ardeth Bey. You are the first man I've ever loved. You are the only man I've ever wanted in this way. All I ask for is the time you can spend with me when you are in the city."

The pain eased out of Ardeth Bey's eyes, replaced by something warmer, deeper, calmer. "So be it. I must ask you for the ring."

"You mean--you want it back?" Julia looked at him, puzzled. "But-- I thought-- "

Smiling, Ardeth Bey took her right hand in his and pulled the silver ring off her finger. "This is the ring I would give to a sister or a friend."

He laid it on the windowsill, then reached into his robes and drew out another ring. Sterling again, but of much finer workmanship, patterned with equilateral triangles all around the band. The setting held a milky green agate. Julia's heart leaped while the scholar in her let out a whoop of equal joy.

Ardeth Bey held the ring up between them so they met eye to eye. "This is the ring I would give to the woman I love." He started to slip it onto her right ring finger. Julia pulled her hand away.

"No. That ring I wear on this hand."

She held out her left. Ardeth Bey frowned.

"I know what you think," she said. "But in my country women wear their wedding rings on this hand, on this finger."

His momentary disapproval faded into a look of wonder. When he spoke, his voice was hushed, reverent. "You will think of this as your wedding ring?"

Julia nodded. "I will wear it here, so all the Englishmen and Americans will see that I am spoken for. To them it will look like a ring of engagement."

"What is that?"

"A promise to marry in the future. When the time is right."

Ardeth Bey smiled. "That is the very promise I would make to you."

He slipped the ring onto Julia's finger. Julia gasped.

"It's a perfect fit!"

Ardeth Bey stared down at her for a moment, then brought her hand to his lips. "Perhaps I should tell you I have waited all these years to find the woman who could wear this ring. That it fits your hand tells me you are the one meant for me."

Julia laughed, throwing her arms around his waist and hugging him tight. "What can I give you? What could you wear that wouldn't get in your way?"

Ardeth Bey shook his head. "You have already given me what I long for, Julia. Your heart. Your love. What more could I ask?"

What more indeed. Julia reached up on tiptoe to plant a kiss in the hollow of his throat. He let his breath out slowly. Julia smiled. If it was self-control he fought for, she was determined to make him lose. She slid her hands inside his robes, along the hard muscles in his ribs and back.

"What more could you ask? What any man asks from his bride on their wedding night."

Ardeth Bey's eyes widened. "You would grant me that? Even though I must leave you, with no idea when I might return?"

"You are the only one I want." She laid her left hand over his heart. "The only one I will have. If you like, I'll swear it on the Bible or the Koran, as you prefer. What shame could there be in that?"

Ardeth Bey ran one hand back through Julia's hair, then sank his fingers into the thickness of it at the back of her neck. He tipped her chin up and held her there, staring into her eyes, their lips a breath apart. Julia's heart raced. The longing in her grew, a desire that burned with sweet flame. She closed her eyes and leaned into him. His lips touched hers, caressing them, savoring them. Made bold by the realization of her deepest wish, Julia ran the tip of her tongue along the delicious curve of his full lower lip. Ardeth Bey's arms closed around her. His tongue thrust between her lips, capturing hers. He ravished her mouth, kissing her with a fierce longing that made her skin tingle and her blood run hot and wild. She broke away to catch her breath.

"Ardeth. Ardeth, listen to me."

He kissed her throat, branding her skin with the heat of his desire.

"There is one thing I should tell you."

He raised his head. Those dark eyes were smoky with passion. "Anything, sheytana. We have no secrets between us now."

Julia opened her mouth to speak. A blush stung her cheeks, prompting in her the peculiar urge to laugh. To blush now, of all times, when she was on the very brink of giving herself to Ardeth Bey. . . .

"I-- You-- " She couldn't say it, yet she had to. He had to be told. Her voice came out in the barest whisper. "You are the first."

Ardeth Bey looked down at her, his eyes full of love, his lips curving in the sweetest of smiles. "Truly, Allah has smiled upon me, to grant me such a perfect jewel."

He stepped back long enough to lay aside his swords, dagger, long coat and shirt. He gathered Julia against his bare chest and kissed her, stroking her hair, running his hands down her back to her hips. Julia sighed into his mouth, content to let him teach her what he wanted, what gave him pleasure. His hand moved up along her ribs. This time he didn't stop, didn't pull away. That elegant hand with those long fingers caressed her, moving upward to gently close over her right breast. His thumb teased her nipple, coaxing it to firmness. The heat, the pure sensation made Julia gasp. Startled by the intimacy of the touch, she tried to pull away. Ardeth Bey backed her up against the wall beside her bedroom door. He leaned his weight on her, making her feel the pressure of his body against hers. He brushed his lips along the curve of her ear.

"Surrender, sheytana. Tonight I make you mine."

**THE END**


End file.
